


It's (Not) a Terrible Life

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - It's a Terrible Life (Supernatural), Angst with a Happy Ending, Chef Benny Lafitte, Eating Disorders, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Sam Wesson/Madison, Past Abuse, SPN Rare Pair Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Dean Smith has a chance encounter with his ex-boyfriend, it causes a rift between him and his current boyfriend, Benny Lafitte.  Benny reminisces on their relationship in an effort to figure out how to fix things with Dean.





	It's (Not) a Terrible Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schmidt1012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmidt1012/gifts).



> Written for the SPN Rare Pair Secret Santa Exchange. I was pretty stoked to get this pairing. Not only have I been wanting to explore the Dean/Benny dynamic, Dean/Benny happens to be my best friend's OTP, and she was an awesome beta reader. I hope Schmidt1012 enjoys this as much as she did!

Dean Smith was standing in the buffet line at the Sandover Bridge and Iron company holiday party, loading his plate up with barbeque cocktail weenies and pigs in blankets. He was smiling, completely content with his life. He loved his job, he loved his boyfriend, and he loved that he let carbs back into his life. Things were going well until an all too familiar shadow loomed behind him, pinching his side and whispering in that smarmy never forgotten voice, “You think you’ll be able to hold onto that handsome bear you brought with you carrying around these few extra pounds?” Michael Winchester was the vice president of Sandover’s fine foods division, and Dean’s ex. 

They broke up over two years ago, and Dean had been with his current boyfriend, Benny Lafitte, for just going on six months. Benny never seemed bothered by what Dean ate, or how it affected his waistline. But what if that all changed? Dean absolutely refused to acknowledge Michael. Instead, he headed back to his table where he left Benny with his two best friends, Sam Wesson and Charlie Bradbury from the IT department. Dean went right to their table and dumped his overflowing plate onto Benny’s almost empty one, took his now empty plate and recently refilled champagne glass, and dumped them both off on a passing waiter. When he made it back to the table a second time, his new plate was a sad little combination of two celery sticks, four carrot sticks, and a couple of grapes.

Benny looked at Dean then at his plate. “What’s wrong, Cher?”

“Nothing, Benny. Just not that hungry.” Dean said grimly.

Sam looked at him skeptically from across the table. “Bullshit. What happened?” Sam stood up to his moose-like 6’4 height and easily scanned the room over everyone’s head. Apparently having spotted the answer to his own question, he abruptly left the table.

Charlie looked just as confused as Benny. “What was that all about?”

“Sam can’t mind his own damn business, that’s what.” Dean said, his voice just a touch edgy.

“Ok, ok, I can take a hint.” The red head said, raising her hands in surrender.

Dean was quiet and sullen throughout the rest of the party. At one point, there was a scuffle and security was escorting a dark haired man out. Sam returned shortly after that.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Sam,” Dean hissed at him under his breath.

“Dude has a restraining order, Dean,” Sam hissed just as irritably.

“He works here too. He has a right to be here.”

“But he doesn’t have a right to talk to you!”

Benny and Charlie just watched them, their heads moving back and forth as if they were watching a table tennis tournament. Benny placed a gentle hand on Dean’s forearm. “What’s wrong, ma petit chou?”

“Nothing. Just drop it, ok?” Dean took an angry bite of his celery to accentuate his point.

At home later that night, when they were getting ready for bed, Benny slipped between the sheets wearing little more than his body hair. Dean, who also usually slept in the buff next to his sexy boyfriend, instead chose to wear his tee shirt and boxer briefs to bed. Much to Benny’s dismay. Once securely under the covers, Benny moved to wrap his arm around Dean’s middle to take his normal place as the big spoon, only to have Dean wriggle away from the contact.  
The next morning, Benny awoke alone in the bed, only to find Dean slaving away on his treadmill. The one that had become a repository for the random items he always seemed to leave in Dean’s apartment. Dean barely managed to place a small kiss on his lips before making his way to the shower. When he came out, fully dressed and ready for the day, he completely bypassed the elaborate breakfast spread Benny prepared for them in favor of one of the disgusting protein shakes that at this point had to be past their expiration date. Before Benny even had a chance to ask Dean what was going on, he kissed Benny’s cheek and said, “Big meeting at work today. See you tonight,” as he ducked out the door.

This continued for the next couple of weeks. Benny would wake up to find Dean on the treadmill. When he got home from the restaurant at night, he’d again find Dean running like hell hounds were after him. Benny was more than a little worried. He reflected on when he’d first met the man who would become the most important part of his life.

It was about two years ago when Dean Smith walked into Guidry’s Gumbo Shack, an upscale Cajun restaurant just across the street from the Sandover building. He sat at a booth, alone. He was emaciated and sporting a black eye. He only ordered coffee. Benny couldn’t control the overwhelming need he had to feed the man, so along with his coffee; he brought a bowl of his world famous jambalaya.

“That’s on the house, brotha,” Benny offered with a soft smile. “Also got a free ear if you need it.”

He didn’t respond, only pulled his coffee cup closer and stared into it. Benny was struck by how green his eyes were, even as sad and empty as they looked in that moment. When he returned to check on the man some time later, the booth was empty, along with the coffee cup and the bowl of jambalaya. He had left enough money on the table to cover the food, coffee, and a generous tip. Benny smiled, thinking maybe he had done something to brighten up the man’s day.

He showed up for lunch every day that week. Always ordered a coffee, and Benny always threw in the jambalaya, offering it and a friendly ear, both “on the house.” The man always left an empty bowl and plenty of money to cover everything. On the fifth day, he finally said something besides “Coffee, black.” This time, when Benny made his usual offer, the man asked for his name.

“Benny Lafitte. I own this fine establishment. I’m also the head chef. That jambalaya is my great grandmother’s secret recipe. She was a well-known Cajun cook…and voodoo priestess back in N’awlens.” He winked one of his ice blue eyes saucily.

The man smiled weakly, but returned the favor. “I’m Dean Smith. I work over at Sandover.” He gestured loosely towards the window that faced the formidable high-rise.

“Good to meet you, Dean.” Benny said with a smile. He refrained from offering his hand in greeting, getting a sense of scared animal from the other man. 

“You too,” Dean said softly. When he turned his eyes back to his coffee, Benny knew that the conversation was over.

After a few months of Benny’s world famous jambalaya, Dean was starting to look less emaciated. It wasn’t the first time Benny had been struck by his beauty, but the more he filled his frame, the hotter Benny thought he was. Dean was smiling, almost beaming as he talked with the giant bear of a man who came in with him. Actually, this guy was more of a moose. A giant moose with shaggy brown hair, and Dean hanging on his every word. But Benny wasn’t jealous. Much.

They sat down at Dean’s normal table, but instead of waiting on them himself, Benny sent Andrea to take care of them, explaining he was too busy in the kitchen to socialize. Andrea rolled her eyes at him, but took the table anyway. When Andrea came back with their order, she told him Dean had asked for him. “Tell him I’m busy,” Benny said gruffly. 

“I will not. You go out there and talk to your friend. Now.” Andrea’s tone brooked no room for argument.

Benny made his way over to the familiar table. “Hey, Dean.”

“Hi Benny. I know you’re busy, but I just wanted to say hi. Oh, this is my friend Sam Wesson. I’ve been telling him how good your food is, and finally got him away from his desk to come try it.”

“I take working lunches, Dean.” Sam said with what could only be described as a bitch face. He turned to Benny. “Hi. Nice to finally meet you. Dean has told me a lot about you. I’m just glad someone got him to start eating carbs again.” Sam extended his hand in greeting and Benny shook it.

After that, Benny didn’t see Dean for a few weeks. Sam came in a few times to pick up food for Dean, who apparently had a big project at work and was now taking working lunches of his own. Benny may have been mildly jealous, until the day Sam came in with an attractive brunette he introduced as Madison. Benny pretended to be disinterested when Madison mentioned that Dean was single.

When Dean did make it back in, it was with a petite red head he introduced as Charlie Bradbury, another friend from work. They’d sit in Dean’s both and talk warmly. Of course, Benny wasn’t at all jealous. Even if he did wish he was the one whispering with Dean over a bowl of gumbo. Benny never dared intrude on their time together, didn’t want to pop their little bubble of intimacy. Then one day, everyone in the restaurant must have heard Charlie exclaim, “But you should totally ask him out, Dean!”

It was a couple of weeks later before Dean shyly asked Benny on a date, blushing and stuttering his way through.

Now, it was six months later and Benny was watching Dean regress back to the scared and skittish man that first walked into his restaurant. Dean wouldn’t let Benny touch him, wouldn’t eat, and would barely look at him. Something definitely wasn’t right with his boyfriend, and Benny had to figure it out, not to fix it, because Dean didn’t need fixing, but to help.  
So, Benny set out to help. He started by fixing Dean’s favorite meal: Benny’s jambalaya (of course), homemade cornbread, and bourbon pecan pie. When Dean came home and made a beeline for the bedroom to change into his workout clothes, Benny stopped him and steered him towards the dinner table. “Dean, you are going to sit down and eat and we’re going to talk about what’s going on here.”

“Can’t you see what’s going on here, Benny? I’ve let myself go.” Dean dropped his head so his chin was to his chest. “I’ve become a fat slob and not worthy of a guy like you.”

Benny, whose hand was still on Dean’s elbow just said, “What are you talking about, Cher?”

“Nothing, just forget it,” Dean said, pulling his arm away.

“I will not forget about it. Now, you’ve been acting strange ever since the party. Will you talk to me? Please?”

“Ok, fine.” Dean sighed heavily, dropped down onto the leather sofa, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “My ex…my ex was there. Michael…he pointed out that I was getting a little pudgy around the middle and wouldn’t be able to hold on to a great guy like you if I let myself go like this.”

Benny sat down next to him and put a hand comfortingly on Dean’s knee. “I’m guessing this Michael guy isn’t the greatest.”

“Understatement. Sam helped me get a restraining order against him.”

“So why are you letting him get to you like this?”

“Because, he’s right, Benny. I’ve gained a lot of weight since we met and started going out. Look at me, I’m gross.”

“First of all, Dean, you would never be gross to me.” Benny started. “I don’t think of you as a thin, beautiful man…”

Dean glared at him.

“What I mean is, you’re Dean, and I am in love with Dean. You can balloon up or shrink down and I will still love you.” Benny clarified, taking Dean’s hands in his own.

“Even if I shrink down to two inches tall?” Dean asked with a weak smile.

“I’d carry you around in my pocket like my own little pocket gay,” Benny grinned at him.

“I love you, Benny.”

“Love you too, ma petite chou.”

They made out on the couch for several minutes before Dean breathlessly pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Benny asked, concerned again.

“Nothing…except…can we please eat dinner now. I haven’t had anything but protein shakes for weeks. I’m starving!”

Benny laughed heartily. It was good to have his Dean back. “Absolutely. I made all your favorites.”

“Awesome!”


End file.
